Another One of Your Schiz
by Darkday Chaos
Summary: [Chapter 2 Up] Freakazoid's impromptu experiment leaves Dexter confused and in need of advice. But wait... aren't Dexter and Freakazoid the same person? And why does nobody else have this problem?
1. Bullet Train of Thought

_Yes! I finally got the pilot chapter of my Freakazoid! story up. Wait, what's this? You mean Schiz is the only Freakazoid! story even up!? Well. I hope it catches on, then. ENJOY! Hopefully enough people know about the show to care. It's a shame to see stories go unread, even if they're just mine. _:laughs:**  
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**Another One of Your Schiz**

_1. Bullet Train of Thought_

Freakazoid woke up in Dexter's bed.

He didn't _remember_ Freaking Out. He liked pizza- he had never done that before. He had always- sheep are really fluffy. They must get alot of static electricity. Does it shock the farmers when they shear them? I bet the shears would conduct the- went to bed as Dexter and woken up as Dexter. All the Super-hero stuff was left to him, Freakazoid, and the rest of the time it was Dexter Douglas, no questions asked.

Freakazoid frowned. "Freak In." His form spun and morphed around until it settled back into the familiar shape of Dexter Douglas, in his pajamas, still frowning.

All he could remember was that he had a very strange dream, and that it confused him. He didn't feel like himself- either one. That, and he couldn't sleep anymore.

"Dexter, where are you going, dear?" his Sunnydale Syndrome-suffering mother called to him as he crept down the stairs. She and Dexter's father's faces were illuminated by the flashing, irregular light of Jeepers Creepers on television.

He stopped. "I'm going out to sleep at a grown man's house for the night and possibly discuss most of the secrets I'm keeping from you and Dad with him."

"Okay then dear, be sure to bring clean underwear when you go," she replied calmly.

Dexter stared, shook his head, then kept on walking. His parents just didn't worry about him enough.

Upon closing the front door behind him, he pulled on his jacket and pulled out his cellphone. The screen lit up and he scrolled through his quick-call list. Steff... Cosgrove... Pizza Time... Roddy MacStew.

Roddy rubbed his eyes and picked up his ringing phone. "_I already told you I don't want any,_" he yelled into it automatically, "_You dastards had better stop calling me in the middle of the cruddy night!_"

Just before he slammed it back onto the receiver, a tenative voice caught his ear. "Mr. MacStew?" His hand stopped in midair, then brought the phone back to his ear.

His tone softened. "Is that you, lad? It's just about midnight!"

"I know, and I'm sorry, but can I come over to your place for a while?"

"Is something the matter?"

"I don't know... just..." Dexter let out a frustrated sigh. Roddy gave him the directions to his house.

Dexter arrived a few minutes later, shivering slightly, and in a worse mood than he had been before. He shut the door a little too quickly, and it slamed.

"Calm down, laddy. You're floatin' the carpet."

Only Freakazoid could do that, but Dexter got the point. He closed his eyes, and took a few breaths.

Roddy raised an eyebrow in silent bemusement. Teenagers. Always running around, trying to find a place to be accepted. It was almost cute to think that anyone would look up to him, ex-Pentacle programer. He didn't expect an explanation for his midnight intrusion. He would help Dexter if he needed it, and that was that.

"What seems to be the problem?"

Roddy sat him down on a couch in the living room, and went into the kitchen for drinks. The fireplace was lit, and Dexter was thankful for its distracting warmth. He tried to get his thoughts in order.

"I keep having these weird dreams lately. And tonight, I woke up as Freakazoid."

Roddy handed him a soda and sat in the armchair opposite the teen. "Sounds like simple dream- morphin' to me. It'd be like droolin' on your pillow or sleep-walkin'."

"I-I guess so."

Dexter's eyes widened suddenly, and he froze.

"Laddy?"

"I just calculated pi to two hundred decimal points."

"In your head?"

"Yeah. Microphones really can't taste too good."

Roddy raised his eyesbrows and didn't waver his vision from Dexter's face.

"See, this comedian was making a joke about pi, and he accidentally stepped on the microphone cord, which pulled it..."

"_De_-xter."

"Yeah?" The teen stopped and looked up at the scotsman's face. "Wh... What?"

"I think I see what your problem is now, laddy."

_To Be Continued..._


	2. A Lovely Shade of Blue

_Thanks to everyone for your support! I'm so glad Schitz caught that much attention. I hope this story will drive you guys to come up with even better Freakazoid! fanfiction and expand this rocking fandom! Woot. XD Enjoy the next chapter, guys._**  
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**Another One Of Your Schitz**

_2. A Lovely Shade of Blue_

Stephanie pranced over to Dexter's side as soon as he rounded the corner to the highschool. "Hi, Dexter!" she greeted him happily.

He looked around to make sure no one else was around, and walked alongside her. It felt so odd to walk calmly next to the blonde, after being rejected and then having Steph discover his secret. Dexter gave her a sideways glance.

"I thought you didn't like me, Steph."

She smiled at him. "I don't."

He nodded in acceptance. Made sense. "Do you have anyone you want to tell about...? Y'know."

She frowned. "Which 'y'know'?"

"The blue one."

"Oh. No."

"Oh."

Dexter adjusted the strap on his backpack. They were almost at the steps of the school building, and he could feel people staring at him. A girl giggled somewhere to the left. By now, everyone in the school had to know that he had asked her to dinner. In this kind of situation, Dexter was prone to hunch up, covering his face.

A most extrodinary thing happened just then. It wasn't very big outwardly, but Steph noticed it right away. Not with suprise, but with satisfaction.

Dexter straightened up.

His coat settled neatly over his frame, and his eyes came out of their constant shadow. He looked, to everyone who was watching, a little bit less cowardly.

"Hey Steph."

"Yeah, Dexter?"

"Since we're sort of... partners now, do you think we could be a little more... together? I mean, you aren't even my friend yet. You don't even like me."

Steph smiled at his questioning face, and pushed open the school doors. "Oh, Dexter, you do get it, don't you? I'm popular. You're... not. Of course I don't like you."

He gave her a face. "I hate highschool."

"It's inconspicuous," she pointed out.

"True, I'll give you that. So, you want to go to out to eat again sometime?"

"Sorry, Dexter, but I'm dying my hair on Sunday at... three o' clock."

"Foiled again! Curse you, pretty blonde female whom I stand no chance of dating!" He shook his fist in the air in defiance. She giggled behind her hand.

"Oh yeah," he added, "I have this problem I want to ask you about. Is that okay?"

"Is it a blue problem?"

"Yeah."

"Shoot."

Dexter leaned in conspiratorially, and looked around suspisiously. His actions contagious, she followed suit.

"Do you ever," he whispered, "feel... well, schizoprenic when you're blue?"

"No," she breathed, "at least, not really. I know I act a little different, but nothing that drastic."

"I think I'm schizophrenic. I think he's not me anymore."

The weight of what Dexter said took a second to contemplate. Both of them, eyes wide and silent, pulled back into normal standing positions.

A football player passed by.

Steph winked at Dexter. "I already said no! Go find someone else to fawn over."

"Curses, foiled."

"See ya, Dexter."

"See ya, Steph."

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On Sunday, at three o' clock, Dexter and Stephanie met at what had become their usual resturaunt- Pizza Time. Not as romantic as the first time they went to dinner together, but good enough, especially since it was a good vantage point from which they could observe the goings-on of the city.

Dexter pulled out his wallet and looked up at the menu above the cashiers. "Hey, that's that dessert from the comercial. You wanna try it?"

She slapped him playfuly. "You know I'm watching my weight. I'll just gt the usual."

"Right, because half of a large peperoni-sausage pizza is so much healthier than a half a cup of frozen yogurt with chocolate sprinkles. I'm sure you'd never drink from a cow when you could eat the whole thing instead."

"Eww, you're going to make me loose my appetite."

"Really, is that so bad?"

They both giggled. Dexter paid for the food and they sat down at their table to wait for it to be brought over.

Steph leaned her chin on her hands and gazed at Dexter from across the table. He blinked.

"What?"

"Nothing. Well, it's just that you seem a little... better today. Funnier. Stronger. Bluer. I think Freak's rubbing off on you."

"Thus my schitzo inquiration."

"Oh! I see now." She considered for a moment.

"I think that it's perfectly normal. I mean, he is another mindframe, so I guess you'd pick things up from him."

He seemed a bit distressed at her words. "Yes, but what about you? Zette's only difference from you is that she's more athletic, which is normal, and that she's considerably more literate."

Steph stuck her tounge out playfully. "I resent that."

Dexter's cellphone rang. They both looked at the screen as he opened it.

_ Cosgrove: Hey kid, we've got a robbery down on twety-eighth and central. This one's weird-looking. _

Steph sighed. "I was going to eat my pizza and everything."

_To Be Continued..._


End file.
